


Rookie

by magicmads17



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of War Crimes, Misunderstandings, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-AC, Trigger warning- gunshot wounds, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Turks - Freeform, Workplace Romance, alcohol mention, communication is important, dense morons in love, mention of PTSD, reno is a dick but we love him, rude is the only nice one, the turks have indeed committed war crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicmads17/pseuds/magicmads17
Summary: Elena is certainly more experienced as a Turk, after all that has happened. Or, at least, that's what she thinks. Then of course, some things happen after what she thought was just a sparring session and she, again, has no idea just what the hell is going on.(Elena/Tseng fluff, eventually. Perhaps a bit of hurt/comfort, and Reno being his delightful self along the way.)
Relationships: Elena/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Rookie

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there,
> 
> i've very recently become positively obsessed with the Turks, and this is what happened. i'm still sad my girl Elena wasn't in the Remake, but hopefully she'll be in the next installment.

Elena officially defeated Rude, landing him in a heap on the gym floor, both panting wildly. Reno cheers from the sidelines, and Tseng, ever the stoic one, nods with approval. 

She helps Rude to his feet and she sees a glimmer in his eyes that are, for once, uncovered by his signature shades. 

“Finally got me, rookie.” He congratulates. He pats a hand on her shoulder and she smiles widely at him. 

“I’ve been with you all for more than a few years now, I think I’ve surpassed the use of ‘rookie’.” She smirks. Reno emphatically shakes his head. 

“You’re still small shit compared to us, rookie.” He cocks his head and cracks his neck with that shit eating grin he always wears. 

“Yet I kicked your ass just last week- I think that makes me at least a medium shit.” 

Reno’s face screws up with his next retort. “How about you go for the big guns then, rookie. Put your money where your mouth is.” He motions to the Director, who raises an eyebrow, but betrays nothing else. Elena has always found Tseng to be difficult to read- he’s very calculated in his movements, which translates to his sparring style, too. She’s seen him and Rude fight for almost an hour before calling a truce. Where Rude has physical power, Tseng has a mix of finesse, speed and strength that has always made her wonder if Hojo hadn’t snuck some mako infusion into his morning coffee at some point. 

Elena adjusts her undershirt. Her uniform jacket and button down had been sacrificed to the side in favor of keeping it neat for the rest of the day, despite it almost being quitting time. 

“You know what, why not?” She eyes Tseng and puts her hands on her hips. He allows a thin smile to his lips and a glint in his eye. Amusement, she’s come to learn. 

He removes his immaculate uniform jacket and uniform shirt, laying along the side of the training room. She pointedly ignores how his undershirt is tight against his torso. Her pulse rises. 

Rude settles against the sides of the room next to Reno, shades back on, and smirk settled on his face. 

She’ll kill both Reno and Rude if they make any comments. She shoots them a glare that tells them as much. Reno feigns innocence and Rude simply snorts at her. 

Tseng places himself a few paces in front of her and nods. “Let’s see what you’ve got, rookie.” 

She’s already tired, but determination fuels her, along with the desire to impress him, more than she’d like to admit. (Plus, his voice does things to her). 

She immediately lunges at him, which he dodges with uncanny speed, and comes at her just as fast. They dart around each other several times before Tseng’s fist is able to connect with her right shoulder, making her spin to avoid being taken off balance. She knows he fights as if it’s a dance, a dialogue with deadly force. She needs to keep up with the rhythm that he changes so often, and if she thinks about it she’ll already be behind him. 

But, then again, she’s watched him fight enough to know that his left side is ever so slightly weaker than his right due to injuries sustained in the fight against Sephiroth only a couple years ago. Things never recovered quite as well as he wanted them to, and she knows he’s frustrated about it. The encounter with the remnants didn’t help, either. She’s seen how his face flashes with pain when he moves too fast when the weather is nasty. He’s made strides, of course, and he’s still easily the strongest out of them all, but he hasn’t quite been the same since then.

She aims for his left side, knowing. He dodges and catches on almost as quickly as she throws her hooks, and he counters. It’s quick, it’s electric, and she ignores the pain when one of his feet connects with her right ribs and she staggers to the side a bit, but is quick enough to regain her step before he can knock her off balance. 

“Yeah, just use all that pent up pining and sexual tension- Gaia knows you got enough of it.” Reno teases. Elena grits her teeth as she feels her cheeks turn red. She’ll get him later. For now, she dives out of Tseng’s reach and lunges at his legs. He apparently didn’t expect that and looks distracted, a small flash of surprise on his face, and topples to the ground. She’s a little surprised- usually no one is able to gain the upper hand against him.

She’d thrown her entire body weight on him, and maneuvers herself to pin him to the ground to the best of her ability. He writhes against her, but she manages to use his weight against him and, by some miracle, flips him on his front, pinning his arm across his back. Tseng grunts as he tries to move out and ends up flipping to his back again, wrapping his legs around her and shifting her off-kilter for a moment, but just enough to land her against the ground, hard. 

She gasps, but struggles against him as he tries to pin her. 

“Took fighting dirty in a completely different direction, huh.” Reno grins, she can hear it in his voice. Rude chuckles softly beside him. 

“Feel like we should give them some privacy.” Rude chimes in. Elena, in a flash of embarrassed anger, bucks Tseng off with a move of her hips, and pins him flush to the ground with a thud, sitting on top of him and staring down, determined and more than a little caught up in the heat of the moment. 

Tseng looks at her, eyes wide, for a second, then smirks. “Yield.” he says, and she triumphantly grins down at him. 

She’s suddenly very aware of what this looks like as Reno cackles and Rude whistles through his teeth. She’s straddling him, hand pinning his wrists to either side. Both their chests heave with uneven breath, and she thinks she sees a very, very slight flush to his face, accompanied by an amused look in his dark eyes. She feels the heat of him beneath her and certain things in her begin to imagine this in a very different context, and her body begins to stir in ways that are completely inappropriate to the moment. 

She scurries off him, not offering a hand and instead immediately going to her things at the side of the room. She needs a second before she can look him in the face again.

Tseng rises and redresses with his usual composure. Elena is desperate to draw her attention anywhere but to the moment that just passed. She glosses past it as best she can- a skill she’s become relatively good at, even when things are a little too intense to ignore.

“How’s that for a rookie, huh?” She demands, triumphant, and trying to avoid any scrutiny from tweedle dee and tweedle dumb over on the sidelines. Reno slow claps and Rude simply whistles again. 

“You’ll still be the rookie, kid.” Reno retorts. “Hit the shower, then we’ll drop you home for the day.” He says, and she nods, going to the women’s locker room a little more quickly than she intends. 

Rude and Reno turn to Tseng, who finishes buttoning his shirt. 

“My, my, that was unlike you, lettin’ her win. You going soft? Or did you just want her to straddle you like that?” Reno teases, Rude smirking at Tseng. 

“... She won due to her own abilities.” He responds, but something in his voice betrays him. Reno knows him too well. Reno’s eyes light up in mirth. 

“Oh, but she got to you--” He turns to Rude, triumph and excitement in his movement. “I bet you ten thousand gil that they’ll fuck before the end of the month.” 

Rude frowns. “End of the year, not the end of the month.” 

Tseng frowns and exasperatedly sighs. “This is incredibly inappropriate-” 

“You’re the one with the hard-on for her, boss.” 

Boss. Tseng’s blood runs cold, and the hint of amusement he had on his face dissipates. He immediately turns to the door to make an attempt at a dignified exit. 

“Oh, come on, live a little, won’t you? Everyone screws a coworker at some point. Hell, Rude even did it.” 

Something in Tseng is piqued by this admission- Rude is far more rule abiding than his partner, not that it’s against the rules in the first place. But it feels like it is, some taboo factoid from the early days of the company. 

Rude shrugs. Tseng wonders just who he fucked for a split second, but then realizes that he doesn’t actually want to know. 

“Not sure that’s all it is, Reno.” Rude comments offhandedly, and Reno’s smirk intensifies, like a cat that’s realized that the bird he just caught is still alive and therefore still a toy.

They may all be friends, but they are subordinates first, no matter how much Tseng wishes it weren’t the case sometimes. 

Tseng exits, nearly letting the door hit him on the way out, ignoring how Reno teases for his swift retreat. 

In the following weeks, Elena realizes Tseng is avoiding her. 

It’s nothing very apparent to the untrained eye, but their friendly exchanges have become shorter, sometimes nonexistent in the hallways of HQ. Tseng is quick to hole up in his office after briefings, locking his door behind him as soon as he’s able to slip away. He pretends not to see her when she waves to him at the end of the day as they’ve always done. 

It pisses her off. There were many times where she’d considered him her partner, and now she’s getting radio silence and she’s not sure why. Was sparring with him a mistake? Was his ego bruised in the defeat? She hasn’t known him to be the type- misogynists who can’t handle women having any sort of strength, who take out their anger at loss in childish ways. 

That shouldn’t be the case, though the thought never quite slips her mind with any man she deals with. Knowing Tseng, though, and knowing how hard he’s pressured Rufus and Reeve to implement some sort of workplace sensitivity training (the irony is not lost on her- sensitivity training for the people doing the most insensitive jobs). When asked about it, Tseng would jump on his soap box for a minute, talking about who no one deserves to be discriminated against in the workplace, and she’d thought she’d seen some sort of personal vengeance behind it all. 

Hell, even Rude and Reno sat through it. Rude’s language and behavior surrounding things was the more apparent change- he still slipped up sometimes, but always corrected himself. Reno continued to be brash as ever, but to his credit, she now saw him at least consider his actions sometimes. Truthfully, neither had been too bad, minus the things that being a man instilled due to the societal pressures and the teasing that really doesn’t mean anything. She’d never once felt pressured or intimidated by either of them, at least, not in a serious way. Their jokes were just that- jokes. They all respected her, no matter how much they tried to play it off. She’d earned that right long ago, even after all of her missteps in the beginning.

Nonetheless, she found it hard to believe that Tseng would be nursing a wounded ego because of her, however, she didn’t push the thought from her mind in dismissal. She’d come to find that many things were disappointing in life, namely men that she’s respected and, truly, held the torch for far too long. 

But if it’s not that, then what is it? She hadn’t changed her behaviour at all, it was just the sparring that was even vaguely unusual. Maybe something there- she felt like she was professional during the exchange, just participating in the usual banter. But maybe- Reno’s comments… Could that have been it? Did it affect her more strongly than she thought?? And did that offend him? She was certainly more obvious about her interest in him in the beginning, and it’s softened out to this vague regard for him (at least, around others), very much crafted by her added experience with, well, everything. They’d settled into an easy friendship, both in and out of work. She thought she had her attraction under wraps, resigned that it’s just never going to happen and they will just be friends, and that’s okay with her, too. But maybe something on her face, in the way she reacted to the taunts was too much? 

She furrows her brow as she finishes the particular report on her desk. They’d been instructed to slide them under Tseng’s office door, but she decides that she’ll get an answer for his avoidance today. The file is too large to fit under his door, anyways, and she wouldn’t even dream of leaving it outside his door for anyone to look into if they’re nosey enough.

It’s not fair to her, and not fair to all of them for any sort of rift to happen. She’ll fix it, for efficiency's sake, and also because she thought they had a closer partnership than this. 

It’s three hours after she should’ve gone home for the day. Most of HQ is empty now, the night crew beginning to clean the building after most people have gone home. She has a stack of files in her hands, all impeccably completed and sorted, as is her standard. She’s good at her job, and always has been. Nothing will make that suffer. 

She stands outside his office door, knowing he hasn’t left for the day. She bolsters herself. Her anger outweighs her anxiety and she knocks on the door forcefully. 

“Come in.” He responds, looking up from his desk and the piles of paperwork when she opens the door. He must have been expecting someone, as the door wasn’t locked this time. 

He looks slightly surprised to see her, but very quickly settles back into his usual expression. She fights the urge to frown at him. 

“I brought the completed reports, sir.” She begins, approaching his desk, no apprehension whatsoever, or at least, trying to make it look that way. 

“... I believe I gave the instruction to slide them under my door.” He responds dryly. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Didn’t think these were gonna fit.” She responds, voice betraying her agitation a little more than she’d like. She’d gotten better at keeping her cards closer to her chest through the years but she’ll never be stoic. She’s accepted that, but still hates it sometimes. 

Like now. 

He looks at her questioningly, letting the papers he’s been scanning over rest in his hand over his desk. “Is something wrong, Elena?” His tone is professional and even. It makes her grind her teeth a little bit. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

A flash of surprise and something else crosses his face. She doesn’t know what passes through his mind, she never does, but she clearly sees some train of thought begin. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” he replies, unfailingly stoic and measured in tone. 

“You’ve scurried out of a room everytime I enter, you give me my assignments first and dismiss me first out of meetings, and you don’t look me in the eyes anymore.” She tries to keep her voice level, but she’s pissed, rightfully so. But she has to be professional. They are at work, after all.

They’d been through so much together and now something happened and she doesn’t have any idea what it might be. She’s owed more than this- after almost dying at the hands of the remnants, after everything. She knows for a fact she’s done nothing wrong, and Tseng is more than professional, except for when he’s pushed to some limit. 

… Had she inadvertently pushed him to some limit?

She’s standing across the room from him, teeth gritted. There’s a tension in the air that she’s never experienced with him before, stemming from a peculiar flash of surprise across his face. Not even when she’d been yelled at by him for some stupid thing she’d done had she felt this tension… 

He regains his measured composure. He nods at her, slowly, taking in her words more than anything else. 

“I've treated you no differently, however if you feel I have-” He clearly sees she has the advantage. He apparently didn’t expect to be called out. 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.” she snaps back. “Did I do something wrong? Am I being punished?” 

Tseng shakes his head. “No, of course not-” She’s not convinced. He’s a good liar, they all have to be, but something doesn’t sit right with her, as she still has no explanation. 

“Then why am I being treated like a new recruit again? I’ve proved myself to all of you over and over again.” She nearly spits. Tseng betrays nothing on his face. 

“We’ll stop calling you rookie if it bothers you, Elena-” He tosses back, flippantly. She exhales sharply, pointedly. 

“That’s not what this is about.” She spits. “We’ve done so many missions together, we were basically partners at one point and I don’t understand why you’re being so distant and treating me like a newbie. Sir.” She’s toeing the line that Reno treads so expertly. She doesn’t know how far she can push until she reaches the beginning of Tseng's annoyance, truly, but a part of her wants a rise out of him, to prove that she’s moving in some direction rather than just meeting the recently erected brick wall between them. 

He stares at her, not meeting her eye, but also not speaking. She huffs. 

“- Is this about the sparring match the other night? What, do you have a bruised ego because I beat you?” She’s in danger of crossing the line, she knows it, and she sees it in the way he blinks at her. Progress, at least. Some reaction that tells her she’s on the right track. 

“Elena, you know me better than that.” He snaps. His gaze becomes sharper, and she knows she’s onto something, at least. So she decides to egg him on. 

“Well, you’ve given me nothing to go on other than that.” She fans the flames, defiance in her voice. When she just started here, she would’ve jumped off the roof rather than even think of talking to the Director this way. 

“I can assure you that laying me flat had nothing to do with it.” Tseng seems to flinch at something ever so slightly. His clunky phrasing hangs in the air as if he regretted saying them as soon as they left his mouth. 

This piques her interest. There’s a slight twitch in his posture as he realizes how intently she’s studying his reaction. 

“Then what the hell is it?” She reels back her anger now that she’s getting somewhere, opting for a tone that’s more questioning than accusatory. He shifts, trying to make it look natural, but somehow put in a position where whatever he’s been trying to conceal is compromised. She’s never seen him like this, squirming under scrutiny, and she wonders for a moment if she’s reading into something totally unrelated, some aspect of his private life that he doesn't share with any of them. But then she continues to take in his reaction and knows there’s something under his composure, under his mask. 

He takes a breath and stands, movements very intentional and calculated. Her eyes follow his eyes closely. 

“It’s late, Elena.” he says, looking to his desk and sorting his papers and avoiding her scrutiny. “Go home.” 

She stares at him, stunned. “Just give me an answer, Tseng- sir. Sir.” She catches herself. She’s already crossed into insubordination at this point. Best not to actually lose her job. 

His jaw clenches. 

“I told you to go home, Elena.” His voice is measured, only a slight evidence of agitation, though she feels it rising. 

She makes a split second decision to test it one more time, to see what happens, and also to appease the anxiety that’s pooled in her gut since the match. 

“- You’re really just gonna pull rank instead of actually tell me--” her voice betrays much more anger than she’d like, anxiety lining the words.

“Go home, and that’s an order.” He nearly snaps, eyes burning into her. Well, she apparently found the line. She suddenly feels wretched about everything that she’s said in the last few minutes. She exits, trying to keep her dignity, but knowing that even if she hadn’t fucked up before, she definitely did now. 

The following days led the Director to give her an assignment that had her on the field with Reno and Rude for three weeks on the opposite side of Edge. The other two know something happened between her and the Director, but they don’t broach the subject until they’re settled in the farthest booth from the bar in Seventh Heaven when they’ve finished their duty for the day. 

Reno nurses something with a higher alcohol content than either of Rude or Elena’s drink, or perhaps the entire bar, if they were truthful. Rude sips his glass of wine, and Elena has a vodka and soda. It’s nice to be with them as a team, for once, even if it’s just investigating some ex-Shinra radicals that started protesting a little too close to the city. And it’s nice that they’ve reached a point where Tifa and company aren’t so vicious against them that they can strike up friendly conversation and get drinks whenever they’re in town. 

Elena’s always liked the Avalanche crew, and didn’t quite get the animosity between everyone. Well, she understood it all just fine, some things cannot be forgiven on either side- even when Elena saw firsthand the damage it did to everyone. Rude spiraled after the plate, and Reno was broken and swan diving into despair. Even Tseng was wavering, too. She saw the fallout. Turns out, being forced to commit war crimes does that to someone, no matter how much they avoid the emotional consequences. 

Elena wasn’t really there for all of it, but she knew the toll it had. Oh, she knew. And she helped them as best she could, or at least, she tried. They’re all at least okay, for now. Never quite healing, but at least able to get out of bed in the morning, even if it’s barely, sometimes. 

She takes a sip of her drink. She stares into the distance. 

“Laney, hello-” Reno snaps in front of her, demanding her attention. “I asked you a question.” 

“Hm?” She looks at him and he widens his eyes at her emphatically. 

“I asked what happened between you and the Director the other night. You’ve been sulking. One of the secretaries told me she heard an argument.” He drawls. She rolls her eyes. 

“Mind your own damn business, Reno.” She takes another sip. Rude smirks, elbowing Reno when he takes another gulp of his drink, causing Reno to almost spurt it out. He angrily elbows Rude back, who laughs at him. 

“What, he didn’t bend you over his desk and leave you panting his name like you’ve always wanted-” 

She groans and pushes him over. “I called him out for avoiding me and he’s been even worse about it. I don’t know what happened, but I guess I did something-” 

“Oh? And what’d he say?” Rude asks as Reno settles back upright. 

“He didn’t really say anything. I asked him if it was because I handed his ass to him when we were sparring, but he didn't give me a real answer-"

“He really didn’t say anything?” Reno pushes, interest piqued. 

Elena racks her brain, she knew the wording was weird and hung in the air strangely, but what it was exactly escapes her. 

“I mean he said something about him ‘assuring’ me ‘laying him flat’ didn’t have anything to do with it.” She takes a stab at making fun of his voice, which amuses her cohorts. “It was weird. I think it has something to do with whatever it is, but who knows at this point.”

Reno and Rude then exchange a glance between them. Reno appraises this and nods as though it’s acceptable, though not ideal. Rude takes another sip of his wine, finishing his glass and waving to Tifa to bring him another. She smiles from across the room and nods. 

“Clunky.” Rude mutters. “Didn’t say anything else?” 

Reno snorts, clearly knowing something she doesn’t.

Elena shrugs. “He told me to go home after I pressed him for more, and he got mad, well, at least for him, he got mad.” She darkly swirls her drink, the ice already melted. Reno goes to make some dirty remark, judging by the look on his face, but is distracted when the barmaid drops off the next round of drinks. 

Tifa drops off Rude’s wine first and offers a pleasant greeting. She leaves after placing their new drinks and picking up the old ones, and both Reno and Rude’s eyes are on her as she walks away. 

Elena knocks on the table forcefully. They snap back to her. “Stop being gross.” Rude, who had definitely looking to her with more longing than lusting, looks at least a little embarrassed. Reno rolls his eyes. 

“Look, all I’m saying is that Strife is a fuckin moron for not going after her-” Reno begins, then focuses back on Elena, cutting himself off. 

“Like I got over my stupid thing for him pretty early on. Right? I’m not obvious anymore, right?”

Reno goes to respond, but Rude cuts him off first. “You’ve been very professional. You’ve grown a lot, rookie.” Rude says it like he’s teasing, but she can tell he means it. 

“I really don’t understand what it could be, then. Am I getting fired? Oh Gaia, that must be it. He’s going to fire me. It was the job in Gongaga, wasn’t it, I shouldn’t have tried to shoot the arsonist, I should’ve let the soldiers handle it-” Her mind begins to reel. She’s been too friendly with everyone, and now she’s going to have to find a new job and leave them all and she really doesn't know how she's gonna handle it, not to mention the rumors of what happens to Turks when they get fired- she already knows too much and if she were in charge she wouldn't let anyone get away who knows too much--

Reno snaps his fingers in front of her. “Laney, stop before you give yourself a coronary.” He puts a hand on her shoulder for emphasis. “As second in command, I can tell you you’re not getting fired.” 

She exhales, but only slightly. That's good, at least. 

“I really can’t believe you don’t see it.” He huffs, smirking still. 

“Reno, what the fuck is it then? I’m at a loss and I just want it to go back to normal.” She’s fully in the crooks of her elbows on the table now, defeated and confused. She thought she’d get somewhere asking in the first place, but she’s ended up more confused than she started. She is at least a little vindicated that she was onto something with the sparring, though. 

“Dunno if I should be the one to break it to you-” 

Rude nudges Reno on, despite the feigned reluctance on Reno’s part. He’s always one for the dramatics, the bastard. 

“-But I think it’s time you realized that when I made those comments when you were sparring, I wasn’t talking to you.” 

Her thoughts stall. Her very being seems to idle as she processes what Reno just said. 

“... What the fuck is that supposed to mean--?” 

Reno rolls his eyes and throws his head back emphatically. “Are you really as dumb as you look?” Reno exchanges another look with Rude, who shakes his head, a signal for Reno to shut his mouth. 

The lightbulb goes off in her head. He couldn't mean....? Could he?????

“You can’t fucking stop there, you red haired slimey shitbag-” 

Reno drains his drink with incredible speed and stands, pulling Rude with him. They leave a sizable tip for Tifa on the table. “C’mon partner, let’s get the car.” 

“I’ll drive.” Rude says. 

They exit in tandem, ignoring Elena’s frustrated pleas for him to tell her exactly what that means. Hope explodes in her chest, along with all of the feelings she’s tried to push down in favor of a very professional working relationship. 

She thinks about all the evidence- his avoidance, his reluctance to be alone with her- could it be because he...? It’s a stupid way to get someone’s attention, but then again, Tseng is not someone who’s known for relationships or work flirtationships. Or one night stands, or whatever it would be. Maybe it’s the one thing he’s not impeccably good at. If that’s even it, if Reno isn’t yanking her chain. Which he might be. But then again, Rude wouldn’t let it get this far. Unless he was sick of it all- but the hope remains. 

For the first time in a long time, she allows herself to imagine what it might be like to touch his lips, be in his embrace, to be scrutinized under that cool gaze of his and this time not being in a briefing, but in something else entirely.

When the doors of the nearly empty Seventh Heaven blast open with three assailants with guns and the insignia matching that of the anti-Shinra radicals they were in town to investigate, she thinks of how he might proceed in trying to protect Tifa and her wards. She thinks of how he would yell at her to not do the thing she’s going to be forced to do, and to get out. But then again, this would be easier if it wasn’t just her. Damn Reno and Rude and their dramatic exit- 

When she draws their guns to her and acts as a distraction as Tifa is able to gather the children and run and they riddle Elena with bullets instead, she imagines what it might be like to be comforted from the white hot pain flooding her system by him, just like he tried to do after the remnants, even when he was bleeding just as much as her. The last image in her mind before she fades into darkness is Reno and Rude rushing in, faces pale and anger very apparent. 

When she wakes up, Rude is sitting by her hospital bed and Reno is in the corner in a restless sleep. They both look terrible, uniforms wrinkled and bags under their eyes. Discarded coffee cups are all over the small bedside table. Reno’s flask is next to his chair, the cap off. 

She’s aware of her torso being covered in stiff bandages, and then the pain hits with a wave of nausea. She squeezes her eyes shut again, allows it to pass. She tries again and moves her hand. Her head swims. She groans softly. 

Rude’s attention turns to her. “Hey Laney.” He says softly, reaching for her fingers. 

“Hey-” Her voice feels raw and raspy. How long…? 

“- Little over a week. You had us worried.” He says darkly. She tries to squeeze his hand, but she feels the wave of nausea again. 

“I’ll always be fine. Don’t you worry about me.” She replies. Rude nods ever so slightly, worry in the lines on his face. She’s aware of the fact that Rude is older than her and Reno. It’s hard to notice, usually, but it’s apparent in the weight he carries on his shoulders and the look in his eyes. 

“You were shot nine times, Elena. They told us you might be a goner more than once.” 

Elena wanted to shrug, but couldn’t really move. She’s just as strong as them, they don’t need to worry. She’s earned her place, and not even death could separate her from them, she dares Death to try. Hades will have to drag her down himself. 

“I’m strong just like the rest of you.” She manages to get out when Rude puts his other hand to hers and squeezes. 

“I know.” 

Reno stirs from the corner, seeing what’s going on, and moving his chair to her bedside. 

“Finally with the living?” He drawls, voice trying to hide anything and everything beneath his mask. She sees him struggle to keep his anxiety behind it, his electric blue eyes wide with worry. “Would suit you right to try to be the hero, rookie.” 

His eyes meet hers and she sees the relief. The lines on his face are pronounced, and the dark circles under his eyes are only emphasized by his tattoos. He's not exactly a young man, either, anymore, his experiences have aged him, too. There's always a hint of his despair behind his eyes- never pronounced, but always present. He hides it well, like to keep himself afloat. 

“I won at being shot more than you.” She tries to level a joke at him, tone light. He doesn’t take the bait, for once. 

“It’s not a goddamned contest. Fucking idiot.” He retorts, genuine anger tempered with relief. “If you would’ve… Just don’t be a fucking idiot again, okay?” 

She looks at him, blue eyes violently shining with the worry that he’s felt and tends to weaponize when it overwhelms him. She tries to give him some reassurance, but another wave of nausea washes over her. 

She ends up weakly flaring her nostrils at him, to which he rolls his eyes at and deflates. He bats a hand at her blanket covered foot.

She stays another two weeks in the hospital. Tifa and the kids visit, bringing flowers and gratitude. Reno and Rude visit when they can get away from the remainder of the mission. They’d taken the assailants in for questioning, and she has the feeling that they never saw the light of day again, even though it went against their new policy of not disposing of threats in the classic Shinra manner. She understands. If it were anyone else in the Turks and she’d been the one to bring them in, she would take her revenge, too. 

She notes the absence of the Director, which is unsettling for more than a couple of reasons. Reno mentioned in passing that Tseng had been at the hospital when she was first brought in. Other than that, there’s been no mention, no messages on her PHS, not even a request for paperwork. When asked, Reno only said that the Director had become swamped with other work. 

She really wonders if Reno had been telling the truth that night. But then again, his absence speaks for his true feelings, she decides bitterly. Even if he was swamped with work, he could have messaged her. 

She’s discharged late on Thursday afternoon, and takes a very expensive cab all the way back to HQ to file her reports about the incident. It’s been stupid, clinging to the paperwork when the request for it finally came in. But it’s been the only thing keeping her sane while being idle. 

She arrives just as most everyone is leaving for the day. Most of the staff welcome her back, offering condolences and eyeing her as she moves much slower than usual. She makes it to the Turk’s floor, where the meeting room was occupied by her colleagues, all sitting as Tseng briefs them on some other mission, something about Rufus, she’s sure, just by the slight annoyance in the Director’s face.

The Director sees her first. She feels the weight of his full gaze and the anger blooming beneath it. He pointedly turns his attention back to his meeting. Reno apparently says something that causes the Director to straighten his posture very suddenly and glare at him. Reno only smirks in response. 

The Director is in a sour mood, it seems.

She waits by the doorway until the meeting concludes, trying to keep her heart from pounding in her throat. She has a feeling she’s utterly in for it- Tseng has a habit of getting a little unhinged when any of them are injured or compromised or being idiots in a dangerous way. It’s still controlled, at least for him. it’s how they all cope. They’re a weird little close-knit family, of course they’ll lose their minds if anyone is hurt. 

Tseng keeps his tone measured and professional most of the time, but the rare occasions that she’s heard him raise his voice is when someone’s been seriously hurt or seriously hurting. It’s how she knows he cares about them. The last had been Reno’s latest spiral, of which he's prone to every once and a while when things calm down and he’s no longer able to distract himself with work. It’s those times that he drinks more than he eats, his hangovers making him murderous and insufferable during the day, and his nights are forgotten in favor of a delirious blurr. The latest was over a year ago, concluding only after Tseng had to collect Reno off the ground of a filthy bar in the ruins of Midgar at four in the morning because even Rude couldn’t contain him, Reno so far gone he’d barely been able to open his eyes. It remains the angriest she’s ever seen Tseng- his jaw clenched, the look in his eye akin to the glint he gets before he’s about to destroy one of their enemies. 

The following day, Tseng held Reno in his office for over an hour, his angry voice bellowing through the slight crack under his door. The floor had been deathly still that day. 

Reno exited the room with a newfound perspective, a series of appointments with the company therapist, and the looming threat that Tseng will not hesitate to permanently remove him from active duty should this ever happen again. 

The meeting room door opens. Rude exits first, looking surprised to see her. “Shouldn’t be here, Elena.” He warns, then moves off to his office. Reno only gives her a shrug and a warning look before scurrying off behind Rude. 

“My office. Now.” The Director’s voice remains measured, but the intensity behind it doesn’t do anything to help her heartbeat to remain level. This is not going to be a fun meeting. 

He walks past her, even steps and perfect posture. She moves as quickly as she can without straining herself, which quickly becomes faster than she should as the anxiety rises. 

He holds his office door open for her, and closes it after she enters. It nearly slams shut behind her. The noise goes straight up her spine.

He motions to the empty chair in front of his desk before he moves to his seat. 

She sits down very slowly, bandages around her torso constructing as she moves and making her face screw up in pain, as much as she fights to keep her expression level. 

He watches her the entire time, mouth in a thin line. She can feel the anger rolling off of him. 

“I believe you were supposed to be discharged in a week.” 

She nods. She convinced the nurses that she was fine. Only lied a little bit, citing something about a mission and waving her bandage around threateningly. Didn’t get out her firearm, though. (it was locked away, unfortunately…) 

He does not not sit down. He folds his arms behind his back, and glares down at her. 

“Why are you here, Elena?” 

She sets the stack of paperwork from her hands to his desk. 

“I wanted to turn in-” She says, voice a little smaller than she’d like. She wishes she had Reno’s power in the face of going against authority at this moment. 

“You’re supposed to rest, not be here. Or discharge yourself from the hospital early.” He cuts her off again. 

“-But sir--”

“Do not argue with me, Elena.” He snaps. She’s flooded with a vague sense of panic, but also a rising frustration. She forces herself to meet his eye defiantly. “I would expect this kind of recklessness from Reno, but not from you.” 

Anger rises in her throat. She’s finding the strength, now. “What recklessness? I came in here to turn in paperwork.” 

He glares at her even more intensely. “You know exactly what I mean.” She frustratedly sighs in response. “Why didn’t you call for backup?” 

She fights the urge to huff at him. It seems that Rude and Reno returned their reports earlier than her, for once. “I followed protocol, I assessed the situation and found that I did not have time before the threat would attack civilians.” She explains as professionally as she can, controlling her tone to the best of her ability. 

Tseng’s jaw is clenched and his entire body is tense and rigidly standing. The look in his eye is dangerous, untempered in distinct contrast with his usual demeanor. 

“You should have found something--”

“-They blasted the damn door in. And you know what Seventh Heaven looks like, especially when Tifa’s closing up for the night. And before you even go there, no, she couldn’t handle it, she has two children to take care of by herself and they were my priority, too. I won’t be responsible for another broken family while I can help it.” 

This gets him to clamp his mouth closed before he replies. The weight of her words echoes within him in an extremely painful way. She sees memories cross over his mind for a mere second, but he quickly jumps back to the present. That was a bit of a low blow, perhaps, but the statement stands.

“You acted rashly.” He snaps after a moment, argument failing.

“The mission was still a success. The assailants were brought in for questioning, which was even better than what we’d expected.” She fires back at him. “You have no reason to punish me, even though you’re trying your damnedest to find something, apparently.” She can’t help but add the last part, and that spurs him back into the argument. 

“You’re suspended for three weeks.” 

She stands up too quickly, pain racking her frame, but adrenaline carrying her. “I did my fucking job and you’re gonna suspend me? Why the hell do you have it out for me these days, huh?” Her voice is strained both with her anger and her physical pain. She needs to remember not to move so fast. 

His eyes widen, and he begins to respond, but she doesn’t let him. He shifts toward her when he sees her body tense in pain at the movement.

“You just want me out? Fine. I still don’t know what the fuck I did to offend you so much, but if you want me out of your sight so badly, then you got it, sir. I fucking quit. Sir.” 

The words tumble out, and she can’t stop them. She immediately wants to retract them, knowing that she’ll fall apart without the Turks- she knows she’s just mad but she’s gone too far. They are her family, they are her friends, they are her only purpose, these days, and she doesn't want to die at the hands of whatever remains of the old Shinra, if they decide she knows too much--

The anger vanishes from his body, replaced by deadly stillness. “You don’t mean that.” He states, voice not quite measured, but definitely less angry and more bewildered than anything. 

“How do you know? You haven’t talked to me since even before all this, you’ve just fucking avoided me. Hell, you didn’t even message me after I woke up in the hospital. Nothing.” She spits at him as she backs to the door. He takes a few steps around his desk and towards her, a little more unhinged than he’s ever comfortable being. 

Through her anger, she notices, but ignores it. He can go fuck himself for all she cares right now. 

He collects himself and she sees that. She doesn’t care, however. She turns to the door and begins her exit. 

“Fucking hell-” He continues moving towards her as she leaves. “Elena, please-” His tone is deflated, pleading, or at least as pleading as he can get. This takes her by surprise. He rarely swears, citing it as unprofessional. But she’s done with this, so she focuses on getting out of here. She’s in pain and probably due for her next round of pain meds, and she’s exhausted and she wants to lay in a real bed and actually sleep and cry for a little bit so she can go back to being normal, even though she just quit her fucking job that’s the only reason she hasn’t jumped off the hypothetical bridge yet-

“I’m not coming back.” She spits over her shoulder, then grunts in pain with her first real step through the door. She’d moved too fast, and it feels like she got shot all over again, just with tinier bullets this time. She clutches her torso and her hand comes back twinged with red. 

“Goddamn it-” She exclaims, panic rising with the stains on her uniform. 

“What’s wrong?” Tseng is closer to her than she expects, barely just off behind her shoulder. She doesn’t look at him, she just frustratedly and defeatedly shows him the palm of her hand, coated in a thin layer of blood. 

So she spends an hour on the medical flood of HQ while some poor company medic rebandages her and Tseng leans against the wall, seeming to look straight through her, but deep in thought at the same time, expression betraying nothing other than a vague distaste for the day and a series of thoughts behind his eyes. 

They dose her with another painkiller, and she’s even more tired than she was before. She fumbles for her phone after she’s allowed to dress again, new bandages tight against her skin. Probably too tight, but that’s a later Elena problem. She’s trying to call Reno or Rude so they can give her a ride home and talk some sense into her, some semblance of normalcy. 

Her vision is a little blurry from being so exhausted. And also probably because they really gave her a strong painkiller- one of the ones Shinra used to dole out to SOLDIERs like candy. Her thumbs fumble and she drops her phone. She groans. She doesn’t want to bend down, it’s going to hurt so bad. The thought of it makes her want to cry a little bit. 

Tseng hands her her phone, and places a very tentative, gentle hand on her arm. 

“Let me take you home.” He says, offers, really. His voice is much quieter than earlier. She looks at his face, and sees his expression is a little softer than normal, showing the goodness within him he so rarely shows as a way to protect himself, even though they know that Tseng is a good man, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, no matter the awful things he has to do, no matter the things that he's done. 

“Thought you didn’t want me around, sir.” She says bitterly, driving the knife in just a little further. She knows he cares, he’s shown it over and over. She doesn’t know why he’s been avoiding her. But he’s here now, and suddenly she’s curled up in the passenger seat of his car and he’s driving her home, and she’s staring out the window watching the lights of the city buzz past. 

She feels nauseous and wretched. She hasn’t eaten anything today, and the general pain of the day hasn’t helped anything. 

Tseng remains silent, only moving to shift gears and to turn the radio station to the one she likes to listen to. 

Some rock song plays quietly as he turns into the driveway of the townhouse she’s been renting. It’s small, only a two bedroom, but it’s enough for her. She’s never needed much, and puts most of her salary into her savings. 

She expects him to just drive off, but he shuts off the engine and exits with her. 

She struggles out of the vehicle, and fishes for her keys in her uniform jacket. When she produces them, she moves to the door much more slowly than she wants to. She feels awful and now lightheaded and oh Gaia, what a terrible fucking day. 

She has to close her eyes to prevent herself from getting too lightheaded before she can turn the key in the door. 

She bolsters, and opens the door. She steps through, and slowly turns to Tseng. 

“Thanks for driving me home.” She says cooly, quietly. 

“Get some rest, Elena.” He responds, nodding. She notices that he hesitates before turning back to his car. 

She tentatively leans on the inside of her doorway, watching him go, brow furrowed. 

“Did I do something to upset you, before all this?” She asks, just quiet enough that he has to strain to hear. Truly, he could’ve just pretended that he didn’t. 

But he stops in his place, shoulders tensing, then dropping. He turns back to her, like he'd been caught, finally. 

“No, you didn’t.” He sighs, expression a little unsure, but she can tell that he’s at least trying. 

“Then why have you been so distant?” She repeats the only question she wants to know the answer to. He approaches again, almost hesitantly, and stops only a few paces away from her. 

“You did nothing wrong. I promise.” He says gently, the way he’s looking at her is soft. But he doesn’t meet her eye again. And yet, she doesn’t feel that he’s lying. Clearly, there's something he's avoiding putting into words. 

“I wish you’d just tell me what’s wrong, then.” She’s defeated. It’s a statement, nothing more, nothing less. She moves inside her house, it’s time to begin the process of dealing with everything today has been. As she sits down on her worn couch, takes off her jacket and shirt, leaving only her undershirt and bandages, and very carefully bends to at least try to take off her shoes, she hears the door close and the lock shift, and footsteps approach. 

He stops before his feet hit the carpet of her small living room. 

He takes a breath. He’s hesitating, she can see it written over all of his features. He’s… nervous? He looks at her directly. 

“I owe you more than one apology.” he begins, voice more in the tone he uses when they’re all just friends and he’s not the director, and they’re all drinking after a mission and actively being people, not Turks. This puts her a little more at ease, but the anxiety behind it all makes her anxious too. “It wasn’t fair or professional of me to take out my frustrations on you earlier today. You’re right, you did everything as you should have.” he pauses, searching her face for something. Not finding it, he continues.

“You were very seriously hurt, and we were very worried- I was very worried. Even with all the mako healing the hospital did, it wasn’t guaranteed that you would make it.” he admits. “I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you. To any of the Turks, really, but especially not you.” 

She was about to jump in and say something about how she's not weak, she's just like the rest of them and can handle herself, but he shakes his head and continues further. “I’m aware that everything you do is all your decision and you are just as strong as us, but the statement stands.” 

This appeases her for the time being. But she still needs more. 

“You’ve been evading the one answer I keep asking for. Please just tell me. I still don’t believe that it’s not my fault. And I won’t judge if it is. I just want things to go back to normal.” She pleads. She’s groveling, now. She just needs to know, after everything. 

Tseng’s face flashes panic. He takes another breath, then gives a shy smile. 

“You were onto something when you asked about the sparring.” he quietly admits. It takes a lot for him to do so, she sees by the clear tension in his frame and the way he breathes to steady himself. 

Her heart drops, for which reason, she’s not sure yet. If he’s butt-hurt over being beaten, she’s going to kill him as soon as she’s able to move like she wants to. But if Reno’s comments made her flush and made him uncomfortable, or something in her eyes gave it away--

He huffs, moreso at himself than at anything else. “I’m very bad at this. Don’t do it really at all, truthfully.” he says, an apology, but to what she isn’t quite sure. Her heart spikes and suddenly the lightheadedness is back, but she’s still present. She’s dreading his next words.

“Okay.” she says, hanging on his words and actions, and trying to spur him on. 

He swallows nervously. “Ah, well… Reno’s inappropriate comments held a little more truth than I’m admittedly comfortable with.” 

She scowls. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird. I know my thing for you was really apparent in the beginning, but I’ve tried to keep things as professional as possible and I’m sorry, I should’ve never put either of us in that position. It was unprofessional, and I’m really sorry, sir-”

“-Wait, you still--?” He suddenly stops and stares at her, incredulous. 

“Is that not what you’re talking about?” She responds, just as confused. He shakes his head. An electric moment suddenly fills the room, and things begin to make much more sense than before. 

“I was talking about-- Elena, doesn’t it bother you that I’m your supervisor?” The tension in his frame is replaced by another kind of tension entirely. Something shifted in him, clearly, and he's looking at her with more of a lightness behind his gaze.

“No, not really. I mean, there’s no rules against it. And we’re both adults. We’ve had a really professional working relationship so far, except for the last few hours.” She explains, forcing herself to talk about it like an adult and not to hide behind the fact that she’s admitting all of it after so many years of trying not to let him notice. It's terribly strange. 

He nods, taking this in, then laughing lightly. 

“What?” she asks, more confused now than ever. 

“I thought Reno was trying to wind me up. Not you. I thought you were over me.” He took the leap. He finally said what it was, and everything begins to feel much lighter. 

Her heart nearly stops. Her head swims. Her expression is likely very obviously betraying her utter confoundedness with this whole situation. 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and gives her an uncharacteristically sheepish look. “In recent years, I’ve noticed how much you’ve become an extremely capable Turk, and person, really. And that notice turned to admiration and attraction, and apparently Reno caught on-” 

“No one hides anything from Reno, except Reno.” She chimes in, not really sure what else to contribute but wanting to. She can’t believe what she’s hearing. This has to be the pain meds, right? He sees her expression and takes a small step towards her. 

“-Right. And I misjudged that I would be able to keep things professional and I feared that… In the conclusion of the match… I had inadvertently let something slip, judging by how you retreated.” He has to work to find the correct words, the ones that tell her without actually telling her and a disbelieving smile hangs on her lips. 

“And you avoided me because…?” She spurs on further. She wants more, and she feels like he owes her that much. 

“Because I was mortified.” He admits. “I didn’t want to disturb our working relationship, though it seems I did anyway.” He searches her expression, and seems to hold his breath waiting for her reaction.

She can’t help but stare at the earnest expression on his face. It’s a vulnerability she’s never seen in him, even when they’ve both been inches away from death. This is utterly ridiculous in the best possible conclusion of everything. 

“You pushed me away because you didn’t want to damage our working relationship, because you-.” She can't help a light smile from forming on her lips. 

“Yes, that appears to be the situation.” He cuts her off, embarrassment and regret written over his features. He’s flustered- Tseng, the unshakable Director of the Turks, is flustered. 

“You know how ridiculous that is, right?” She allows herself to tease a little bit, unsure how to proceed as she processes all that hangs in the open air between them. She allows a slight laugh to bubble out. 

“Fully aware, yes.” He nods, biting his lip with nervous energy. He seems like a younger man, nervous and inexperienced in this, at least. Not that he’s that much older than her, which is one of the reasons she doesn’t feel bad about holding the torch for him for so long. 

He doesn’t blow off steam like the others- where Reno and Rude go on benders and spend their nights in the arms of different people a couple of times a month, he still keeps most of his personal life to himself. Sure, Tseng joined them in the drinking that always proceeded said benders (and sometimes these nights ended with Reno and Tseng very, very drunk and singing through the streets, which were always special occasions). ((Elena and Rude have videos)). 

Nonetheless, none of them really know much about Tseng’s personal life. They know he lives in a very nice house on the outskirts of Edge, and has a nice car. They know what kinds of food he likes, what kind of food he hates, his opinions on the latest popular drama on tv, not that any of them have a whole lot of time to watch it. They know he always has a soft spot for any Wutai-brewed whiskey. But they don’t know his preference in partners, or how many he’s had, or even if he has a preference for what a partner should be to him. 

Well, now she knows something, at least. And she can tell this is not something he does often, at all, though he’s better than he thinks he is at saying the right things, truly. Apparently, though, he just gets in his head about things like this. 

She fully meets his gaze. She appreciates his honesty, and wants to continue it, and she wants an answer for his absence, too, while he's at it. “... It didn’t sit well when you didn’t visit me in the hospital.” She quietly admits. His face falls, brow crumpled. 

“I was there for days before you woke up. I was called away by Rufus right before you did, and I got overwhelmed with the fallout afterwards.” He explains quickly. “I was a mess, seeing you like that. Like this, truthfully.” He pointedly draws attention to her injuries and how exhausted she looks and assumably how sallow her skin is, and the dark circles under her eyes. If he’s a mess, she’s a disaster. She's avoided a mirror thus far, but she's not excited to see the result of everything. 

“Got your attention, though.” She tries to have a light tone, but it causes a bit of the earlier anger to bubble up in his face once again. 

“Don’t use Reno’s tactics ever again.” He warns, and she knows the threat stands. 

“Okay.” She nods, conceding. It feels like one thing has reached a conclusion, while other things hang in the air. 

A pause. She decides to break it. She’s gotten this far. 

“... Do you really have a thing for me?” She asks. He nods slowly, studying her reaction. He swallows nervously. 

“Do you really still have a thing for me?” he asks in reply. The look in his eyes is so unguarded, so vulnerable. 

She nods in turn. Then she laughs, the smile on her face infectious. He laughs too, only stopping when she has to stop herself, the pain from her injuries exacerbated by the movement. His eyes flash in concern. 

“This whole thing is ridiculous.” She says, after she collects herself. He nods in agreement. “First thing we need to establish- communication. You can’t just ignore me.” She begins. 

“Agreed, if you agree not to do stupid, dangerous things like discharge yourself from the hospital a week early to catch my attention.” 

“That’s fair.” She levels with him. “In my defense, I was also going slowly insane there.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. He knows the feeling all too well, an echo of their time after the Remnants. “Secondly, we keep our working relationship the same, and keep it separated from our personal lives. The less time we’re together at work, the better.” Elena shrugs in half agreement. 

“But we still need to be able to work. I think we should actively focus on our goals at work, not our proximity.” This makes his eyes light up. He apparently hadn’t thought about that. 

“I agree with that.” 

She smiles, then struggles to her feet, blacking out a little bit and causing him to go and catch her by the shoulders. Her body erupts in a cold sweat, and she has to regulate her breathing, and her vision is woozy at best...

“Elena-”

“‘M fine, just haven’t eaten anything today.” He scowls at her, the warmth of the moment not lost in it, however. 

“Damn it, Elena.” He’s worried and lets it show on his face and in his voice. She likes when he’s more genuinely himself, not so guarded. 

She slides her hands to his arms and closes more of the distance between them. His hands move to her waist, but hover, painfully aware of the bandages beneath. She guides him to touch her, showing the amount of pressure she can handle at the moment (which isn’t much, if she’s perfectly honest, but the gesture stands). 

“Thirdly, I think our personal life needs to be honest, and communicative.” 

“Isn’t that rule one?” He cocks an eyebrow at her, following her change in tone. 

She snorts lightly. “Yeah, but I mean more like you need to tell me what you like, and what you’re comfortable with.” She moves her hands to his shoulders, the strong shoulders that she’s always wanted to touch like this. 

“Mm, if you do the same for me.” His voice is low, soft but resonant. It goes straight to her head, and other choice parts of her anatomy. 

“I’ll start by saying that I like this.” She smirks. Her torso was almost touching his, and she’s very aware of how much taller he is than her. She ignores the stinging pain of her injuries- this is all that she’s wanted for so long, and if it took nine bullet holes to get here, so be it. 

He smirks back, and closes the distance. His lips are light against hers- she knows now just how shy he is in his personal affairs. She leans into it as much as she can. 

It’s not a long kiss, as she has to pull back when she jumps over the line and her body feels like she’s being shot yet again, but it was everything she needs to affirm that whatever this is, will be good. 

He’s worried again, and helps her down to the couch as she grunts in pain. Her face is tense, but she wills it to relax when she sees the tenderness he’s regarding her with. 

“Am I that bad at this?” he jokes, some genuine concern behind it. She shakes her head. 

“Gaia, no. You’re even better than I thought.” She settles against the back of the couch. “Were I not riddled with bullet holes, neither of us would have clothes on right now, let me tell you.” She jokes, almost wondering if that was too far too fast, but the words happen anyway. 

He smirks mischievously, taking the bait. “Hurry up and heal, then.” 

She flushes a little, feeling the warmth on her face, and smiles in return. Her vision starts to go dark again and she has to steady herself. When she’s able to see again, he’s staring at her in concern. 

“I need to eat something, I’m not suddenly dying.” She snaps lightly. 

“I should eat, as well.” he says, sliding his phone out of his pocket and opening one of the delivery apps they've all abused thoroughly over the years. “What do you want?” 

She smiles and grabs for whatever she can grab of him. “Sit down and stay a while.” 

He settles on the couch next to her, showing her his screen. It’s reminiscent of some of their stake outs- they’d always order from different local restaurants- something they both liked to explore. 

“How about that pizza place around the corner?” He asks her. She remembers the last stakeout that brought them around there, and smirks to herself. It was a successful mission, and what was even more successful was that they'd talked all through the night that time. It's a fond memory of hers. 

“I didn’t think their crust was that good.” 

He sharpens his gaze at her, more focused on her wellbeing than the food itself. “You liked their selection, if I remember right. And you need to eat.” he chides, and they hash out their order. 

By the time the pizza arrives, she’s changed out of her uniform into much more comfortable clothing, and her hair is wet from an attempt at bathing that didn't get her bandages soaked (she's at least grateful for the attempt, her hair was greasy and disgusting, truly). She’s curled up on the couch, starving, but giddy all the same. 

Tseng had removed his shoes, jacket and button down, remaining in his undershirt (much to her enjoyment). His discarded clothes lay in a neat pile next to her front door, and he’s in the kitchen fiddling with her stove, trying to light the burner to put the kettle on for tea. She’s warned him that her stove was broken, but she knows he’s going to try anyways. 

Soon, they’re both watching some decently good movie but not really paying attention and devouring the pizza as if it’s their last meal. They lull into a comfortable pattern- making comments about the movie and the acting, and reaching for either the pizza or their mugs. The confessions from earlier in the night spike the air with a giddy joy. 

She shuffles a little closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He then carefully reorganizes their limbs so that she’s wrapped in his arms and they’re both in the crook of the couch. She has to readjust, and tenses, to which he pulls his hands away as if he’d been burned. She laughs lightly, then pulls him back in. 

There’s a tension in his body, she notices, that’s always present. But as his mind lets go, the tension loosens. She runs her fingers over his forearm, correctly assuming that it lulls him to relax. She wonders at the expression on his face, but muses that she'll have to wait for another opportunity to view it, as turning in any direction is out of the cards for her, unless she wants to rip even more stitches.

“... Do you ever actually relax of your own volition?” She asks, definitely meaning to roast him a little bit. 

“You of all people should know that I am not capable of relaxing. My entire being is held together by stress.” 

“Better than being held together by spite and alcohol, like someone else we know.” He suddenly frowns, brows knitting. 

“Should we tell them that we’re… Well, whatever we’re doing?” He asks, not seeming to lean in any particular direction. 

“Seeing each other, I guess?” She takes a stab at it and he nods in agreement. “I think we should see how long we can keep it from them. Make it a game.” 

“You assume they aren’t parked outside right now, scoping us out.” 

“Wouldn’t put it past Reno, but I think Rude would leave us alone.” She yawns and leans her head against his chest as his fingers trace the back of her hand. “Am I still suspended?” 

“Are you still quitting?” 

She rolls her eyes. “No, of course not.” 

He hums. “Good.” He brings a hand up to caress her cheek. She leans into the touch. “You’re still suspended for discharging yourself from the hospital a week early.” His tone is gentle, but there’s a hint of humor.

She huffs, but there’s no fire behind it. “I want to argue, but I know you’ll win.” She grumbles. “For how long?” 

“Still three weeks.” he replies. “On an unrelated note, I’m planning to use my time off in two weeks. My supervisors have been annoying about me actually using it this year.” His shift in tone is very subtle, but she picks up on it. 

“Oh? You, actually taking time off? What are you planning on doing for a whole week without us?” 

He traces his fingers down her arm. “Well, that depends on what you’d like to do your final week of suspension.” he says, voice low, then tensing. “If you want, that is. I do not want to pressure you into anything, and will completely understand if-”

“You better take me on a real date, at the very least.” She flirts, cutting him off before he can go down whatever rabbit hole of 'ahhhhh this is weird because I'm your boss'. She makes a note that it seems like it'll be something he's prone to. “And if I’m able to move without feeling like my organs are falling out, we’ll go from there.” The suggestion makes him tense again, but in a different way. She feels him swallow, and grins wickedly. “You really want me that bad, huh.” she half teases, half muses. He chuckles lightly, absolutely caught, but not minding it this time. 

“Perhaps something to look forward to.” he cocks his eyebrow. She wonders how long he’s wanted this. She’s wanted this since her first week, but she has no idea when he began to think of her like this. Maybe she’ll ask him someday.

“You have no idea just how much.” she laughs, then yawns again. He gives a slight chuckle. “Another movie?” 

He nods, and she flips the channel to something else. 

The following morning, she wakes in her bed, not really sure how she got there, stiff, but feeling much better than she has in the last few weeks, both emotionally and a little physically. She pops her painkillers for the morning, and is suddenly aware of the smell of coffee coming from her kitchen. She makes her way downstairs to see Tseng sipping a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter and reading the morning paper. 

He hears her, and smiles. “Morning.” 

She smiles back, giddy. So, it hadn’t all been a wild hallucination from blood loss. She crosses to him and pulls him down to kiss his cheek. “Morning. Shouldn’t you be at work? Don’t get me wrong, this is probably the best thing I could’ve expected to come downstairs to, but, in any case...” 

“Mhm. Decided I can be late today.” He takes another sip. He’d apparently slept on the couch, judging from the arrangement of the pillows. She frowns as she pours a cup of coffee for herself. 

“You could’ve slept in the bed with me.” She says. 

“Didn’t want to wake you to ask.” He replies softly. His eyes are on her fully, and his gaze is soft and oh, this is what she’d dreamed of. His hair is tied up, and his eyes betray a sleepiness, as well as the same joy she feels. What she wouldn't give to drag him to her bed right now, even if it was just to sleep beside him for another few hours. 

“Well, you know for next time.” And he smiles in response. 

Her PHS rings. She grabs it and looks at the caller ID. Reno. 

“Elena.” She answers.

“Look, I know you’re supposed to be suspended, but HQ is a mess- the Director isn’t here and some folks are afraid he’s missing or kidnapped, and I know I shouldn’t be asking you, but Rude and I are gonna do a sweep of the city to see if we can at least find his car-” Reno sounds almost bored, but in the way that she knows he's trying to get a handle on his anxiety. There are raised voices in the background. “He’s never late, so it's a little concerning, for sure--”

She stifles a laugh, turning to Tseng. He looks at her questioningly, though the deadpan expression on his face reveals that he knows what's probably about to happen. 

“Did you try messaging him?” 

“Yeah, but no response.” Reno sighs, feigning nonchalance. She can hear the anxiety beneath his voice. “Laney, we’ll be by to pick you up in 20. Just don’t rip your stitches and bleed in Rude’s car, he’ll kill you.” 

“No need for that, I know where he is.” She says, knowing it’s better to tell him than to have both Reno and Rude barrel up to her house and be angry with both of them. 

“Laney, don't- wait, what?!” Reno exclaims, surprised and a little incredulous. 

“He’ll be there soon.” She says, then goes to hang up. Tseng gives her a knowing look that's mingled with annoyance. 

“He’s with you?? Laney, what the fuck-”

She puts her phone down and laughs lightly, a little apprehensive. “Well, they know. And so does the rest of the floor. It’s nice that they care so much about you, at least.” 

Tseng huffs. “Well, that’s what I get for not being selfish until now.” 

“They thought you’d been kidnapped. Have you really never been late?” 

He shakes his head. “Not since I started. I couldn’t fathom letting Veld think I was anything less than capable. I've tried to relax, since then, but clearly it hasn't worked.” He drains the rest of his coffee cup and puts it in the sink. “Guess I’m off, then.” 

She nods begrudgingly. “Keep me company some other time? I have three whole weeks in suspension, I’m gonna get bored after the first day.” 

He nods at her as he moves to collect his things. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with some groceries.” He smiles as he buttons up his uniform. “I don’t know if you remember this, but way back when, right before I got a sword to the torso in the Temple of the Ancients, I asked you to dinner.” 

She blushes. Oh, she remembers alright, then let it go after everything happened, hoping it wasn’t a fluke, but knowing that it was. You say things you don’t really mean, sometimes, when you’re bleeding out. “Guess I still owe you, then.” 

Maybe that was when it started for him, though? 

He smirks. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent cook.” 

“And I’ll warn you that I’m terrible at it.” She retorts in good humor. 

As he puts on his shoes, he shrugs and smirks at her. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m more of a baker, anyways.” 

He stands and slides on his jacket. She raises her coffee mug up at him. “See you later, then.” She’s sad to see him go, something within her desperately wanting to make up for the last months of distance, but also knowing that the job will always come first for the both of them.

He steps over to her, and kisses her once, still gently. She leans into it a little more than she probably should, the ache in her body reminds her. 

He pulls away, and then leaves, his hand lingering with hers for a little longe than she'd expect. 

He ends up spending the weekend at her place. 

(For the record, Rude won the bet, much to Reno’s chagrin. She isn’t healed enough for any particularly fun activities for another month and a half, but when it happens, oh it happens and her world is thoroughly rocked.)

((his, too, but he doesn’t end up telling Reno that until many years later))


End file.
